whistle & bloom: photogenic memory

We got our family pictures taken. And as always, it just about killed me.

I thought this time would be different. That I would not lose my mind, ditch my dearly held priorities, and make everyone close to me suffer. But I kinda did. Again.

It started with The Choosing of the Outfits. Which included me making not one but TWO necklaces for me to choose from, which carefully integrated into my outfit a color that was in my daughter's dress. Because anyone glancing around my house past the piles of dishes and laundry can see, I have enough free time to MAKE JEWELRY. And I am sad to relate that this transpired because I went to every shop in our town that sells necklaces and could not find the perfect, perfectly perfect shade of pink necklace anywhere. So, the good news is that was only a day of time wasted there, shopping. Ahem.

And I KNOW I didn't repeat the whole shopping process trying to get my daughter the perfect pair of shoes for the photo session.

Then the day of the photo shoot. It was scheduled for 6:00 in the evening, so as to get the best light. Fast forward through a very busy day of morning mommy time at church, swim lessons for my girl, and getting my boy from school. Cue me standing next to my toddler's crib begging him to nap. Trying everything to get him to close his sweet precious stubborn eyes. Powerless, and angry in that powerlessness. Because 20 minutes of napping total for the whole day is the perfect amount for him to look wretched in our carefully planned photo. I know this, because that's what happened last year for our photo. My typically consistent napper picks just the right day to get all wired and awake on me. The catnap in his stroller at sister's swim lesson made him immune to all my tricks to get him to sleep.

Is this the pose you wanted for the Christmas card, Mom?

And I lost it. Hours trying to play it cool, try again, make sure he wasn't hungry or thirsty, lay down with him, let him cry it out, let him out of the crib for a bit, try again, rub his back, sing, walk away, and plead- hours of that left me raw and desperate. Because in my mind, this one time it really mattered. I was not going to spend my birthday money for these professional pictures, only to have them kinda worthless because my baby looked stoned in them! (Again).

You know what? There are some things you can't control. And being a parent adds to that list. And it is good for me to remember that. And I hate it.

More things I couldn't control:
At the photo shoot: Mysteriously bad hair day for my girl. My oldest has lost those teeth in front such that the snaggle tooth in the middle is hanging out all by its lonesome, still. Adorable, except not so much. My homemade necklace kept gently snagging on my sweater. And my (exhausted) toddler fell whilst running on the picturesque bridge, cutting his tongue and scraping and bruising his face just a few pictures into the session.

Those teeth. Bless it.

And you can tell me that all of this will be funny a few years down the road, and this was definitely a "first world problem," and I can identify that as true, but I need more than that. I need to lay down whatever is wrong in my motives and desires- whatever is basically idolatry- that made me lose my mind when my little guy couldn't fall asleep. Because gentle readers, it wasn't concern for his well-being that pushed my buttons that afternoon. Nope. And that fact is uglier than the stye that was blooming in my daughter's eye that night, as she stared mostly stone-faced at the camera like a girl posing in 1890.

Photo by Melissa Tukker Photography. And, I know. She is a genius.

Last year's photo. See?! That's a tired baby.

It is so true that the gospel is all I have. I don't have control- even enough to cobble together appearances for one hour on one day, long enough to take a picture. I do have grace, and I pray that grace will work on me until I can laugh at my plans, sing the gratitude of what I am given as it comes, and bless those around me as they are. Even when "as they are", is bleary-eyed and awake.